Monday, March 24, 2014

Six years ago today, I married the man I thought I would grow old with. The man I thought I could entrust with all that is me. The man with whom I promised we would never hurt each other, never lie to each other, never be unfaithful to each other.

Less than four years down the road from the day we married, he tested me to my limits, my absolute limits. I dug deep, deeper than I have ever had to, and found a way to forgive and move forward. Part of moving forward was being a better partner to each other. During the counselling I listened, took note and made a decision to give our marriage another chance. I made my changes. He didn't make his.

Close to a year ago, just two weeks after our fifth anniversary, I found myself in the midst of his continuing betrayal, he had just become a bit more clever about hiding it. It has made me question our entire relationship and the reasons he married me in the first place. We are living apart but see each other as friends. I am determined not to become a bitter, angry woman. I want to believe there was love between us at one time, for both of us. And so I want to be able to live a life without hate or blame. All my questions to myself of 'why', come up with the same answer, because he could and because he thought he would get away with it. While he may not have set out to destroy our marriage, even though he knew his actions would do just that, he still made the decision to put it all at risk. Every single wonderful thing we had together - and we had a lot. But just not enough for him.

It has been a funny sort of a day. We actually both forgot it was our anniversary until it popped up on FB. He actually wished me 'Happy Anniversary'. Which made me feel even more distant from him. There is no understanding of what I have gone through, and am still going through, for him to wish me 'Happy Anniversary'. We aren't where we should be at six years of marriage and we're certainly not in the place where 'Happy Anniversary' is appropriate.